


Identity Anthology

by thechavanator



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Aroace Sena | Serena, Aroace Sena | Serena (Dragon Quest XI), Bisexual Emma | Gemma (Dragon Quest XI), Bisexual Rou | Rab (Dragon Quest XI), Coming Out, Gay Camus | Erik (Dragon Quest XI), Gay Graig | Hendrik (Dragon Quest XI), Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), Lesbian Marutina | Jade (Dragon Quest XI), Lesbian Veronica (Dragon Quest XI), Multi, Mute Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Nonbinary Sylvia | Sylvando (Dragon Quest XI), Trans Emma | Gemma (Dragon Quest XI), Trans Hero | Luminary, and the oc ship isn't properly elaborated on. ANYWAY., okay so. the derk/erik is past and the hendrik/jasper is not actually resolved, pride month indulgence cause i CAN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24921430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechavanator/pseuds/thechavanator
Summary: Tales from the heroes of Erdrea (and one friend) about who they are and how they love...Or, It's A Pride Month Fic, Babey.(Rating mainly for brief allusion to gay strip clubs.)
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Derk (Dragon Quest XI), Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Emma | Gemma/Original Female Character, Graig | Hendrik/Homer | Jasper (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 32





	Identity Anthology

**Author's Note:**

> (HI THERE THERE'S SOME ACT 2 SPOILERS HERE!)
> 
> "I'm gonna keep this free of ships," I say, before my hands add Luminerik of their own volition.
> 
> OKAY SO happy pride!!! Five days before it's over!!! W o w. I've had this idea since the beginning of the month and only JUST got it done, oof. Thank you, work busy season and my sister's wedding.
> 
> ANYWAY. I wanted to write a little bit about some of my party (plus Gemma) headcanons, but I didn't want it all to be like "this is how I figured out I was [gender and/or sexuality]" cause like, that's EVERYWHERE and sometimes it's nice to think about gender and sexuality without that, y'know? Sometimes you just wanna talk about your shitty crush, that's valid. (Sorry to Jasper, sort of.)
> 
> I could wax poetic about the whys of this fic and the scenarios I picked, but I won't. I might put some on the tumblr post I make to link it?
> 
> (I'm sorry about Rab's accent, it perpetually eludes me.)

**1.**

Count on Eleven to have a weird gender crisis years after he figured it all out.

Granted, he’s pretty sure he’d be unable to sleep even if he  _ hadn’t _ just found out he’s the reincarnation of a hero—and not just  _ any _ hero, of course not, he gets to be the fucking  _ savior of Erdrea _ . But that revelation sure isn’t helping.

Can’t he just pretend that what Mum told him was just a silly story?

“‘Ven,” he hears Gemma yell from somewhere above him, “shouldn’t you be sleepin’? Y’ve got a big day t’morrow!” Oh, there she is, now blocking the big orange source of all his new problems.

Eleven shrugs, or at least tries the best he can from his current position on the road, and sighs, prying his arms from the ground. “ _ I mean, I guess? But who said I gotta leave tomorrow, anyway?” _

She giggles, plopping down inelegantly next to him (and the little bonfire she lit to see his hands). “Well, I’m sure not objectin’ t’you stayin’ longer! But I know you, ‘Ven. Somethin’s up.”

Of course she knows. But she’s more likely to get it than most people, he figures, so what’s the harm? The worst she can do is laugh at him. He takes a deep breath, in and out, and begins. “ _ Well, uh. I’m Erdwin, or his reincarnation, I guess. _ ” He pauses, pointing at the Lantern. “ _ That guy. But you heard all that. Not the point. Anyway— _ “

She laughs again. “‘Ven, your shypox is gettin’ to you again.”

It sure is. That terrible curse that the town calls Shypox and Chalky always told him was “anxiety” or something like that. Okay, let’s try again. “ _ I just… _ ” He lets out a frustrated puff of air. “ _ So if I’m some other guy’s soul in a different body, how do we know if my feelings are real or not? Like, am I  _ actually _ a guy, or do I just feel like one because _ he  _ was _ ?”

A squeak of laughter escapes her before she claps a hand over her mouth. (He can’t really be offended by it, honestly; it  _ is _ a pretty weird question.) She takes a moment to compose herself, breath after breath, before she finally lets herself speak again. “Well, ‘Ven, I’m not really sure I buy into all that hero stuff. I dunno ‘ow it could ‘appen...” She twiddles her thumbs, mouth scrunching into her Thinking Face. “But does it  _ matter _ ?”

“ _ What _ ?” Of course it matters! His entire self-perception could have been forged from some sliver of a life he never actually knew!

“For a bit, I wasn’t sure if I was just copying you.” Her eyes zero in on some mystery blotch on the ground. “An’ ‘ow silly would  _ that _ be, me decidin’ I was a girl just ‘cause you realized you’re a boy?”

He doesn’t think that’s silly, but he can tell she’s not done, so he just lets her keep going.

“Almost made myself sick wond’rin’ about that. But y’know what?” She pulls him into a one-armed hug. “If bein’ a boy makes you ‘appy, if it makes you feel like  _ you _ , then the whys don’t matter!”

Hm. She’s right; he’s a lot happier as Eleven than he ever was before. Does it really matter who he was a thousand years ago?

Gemma gently bops him on the head. “Now get some rest, love! You’ve got an ‘ole adventure ahead of you!” She pulls him to his feet, nudging him towards his own house before waving frantically and slipping through her own front door.

(Apparently, to the rest of the world, who he was a thousand years ago matters a lot...but he catches Veronica grumbling something about how he’s “nothing like Erdwin was,” and he really shouldn’t take it as a compliment, but he can’t help the smile that finds itself plastered on his face.)

**2.**

“ _ Honestly, I don’t have a lot of experience in the dating department,” _ Eleven signs sheepishly, and Erik can’t say he’s too surprised. Small town dating pools can’t be  _ that _ big. “ _ Me and Gemma tried once, but it was  _ way _ too weird. Almost felt like dating my sister.”  _ He shudders, and Erik can’t help but let out a laugh.

Eleven fixes him with a glare in response. “ _ Alright, Mister Romance, how many people have  _ you _ dated?” _

The laughter stops, Erik’s eyes darting everywhere but Eleven’s face. “Uh, just one guy. You met him already.”

“ _ One of the knights in Heliodor? Goddess, that must have been a nasty betrayal. Lemme guess, was it Hendrik?”  _ Eleven collapses into a fit of giggles, but before Erik can even  _ think  _ of correcting him, his hands start moving again. “ _ No, no, I know it’s Derk. Tell me about that whole situation, if you don’t mind?” _

Derk, his old partner-in-crime...it had been pretty spur-of-the-moment, honestly, the adrenaline of a successful heist giving way to one hell of a kiss. They were already inseparable, but now they had an excuse to share a bed beyond just their finances.

It’d be easy to say that Derk was an asshole, that Erik had gotten his heart broken by falling in love with the wrong person…but really, that wasn’t the story, Derk  _ wasn’t _ the wrong person. All things considered, Derk had been a  _ very _ considerate boyfriend.

“ _ So what went wrong, then? _ ” Eleven asks.

Erik shrugs. “Nothing. It didn’t go wrong, really. We just wanted different things.”

Derk had never really been one for thievery and adventure; he’d only fallen into the lifestyle because he  _ had _ to. It wasn’t really a secret that he’d rather open a shop and settle down. Erik, on the other hand…

Well, Erik hadn’t really known anything else, and he wasn’t really  _ good _ at anything else. He’d rather keep going, keep moving, especially with Heliodor getting more suspicious and with Mia still waiting for him. (And the Luminary, if the Seer was right...which, of course, they turned out to be.)

Derk wasn’t the wrong person. He might not even have been the wrong person for  _ Erik _ , but it just wasn’t destined to work out. Not for them, or at least not right  _ then _ . So they parted ways, not as partners in thievery, just as partners in romance.

Opal had joined with them not too long after, another addition from necessity rather than actually  _ wanting  _ the traveling life, and Erik had definitely seen the two of them making eyes at each other before he’d gotten thrown in a cell for a year.

“Really, the only surprise there was that it happened so quickly.” He shrugs. “But I guess spending months around each other with no privacy will speed things up.”

“ _ So you’re not mad at them, then?” _

“Nah. I’ve always been good at going with the flow.”

Eleven’s usually pretty easy to read, but for once, Erik can’t really tell  _ what  _ he’s feeling. “ _ Wish  _ I _ was. I’m no good at rolling with the punches.” _

Erik nudges him with his shoulder. “You pick up on it after a while.”

Eleven lets out a shuddering breath. “ _ I hope so. _ ”

(He does  _ sorta  _ pick up on it, right before they make it to Arboria, offering a wordy confession with shaky hands, and Erik laughs, pressing a kiss to his cheek and wondering if, perhaps,  _ now _ he’s okay with leaving the traveling life behind for a while.)

**3.**

“Ronnie, wait!” 

She turns, toying with the end of one braid as she watches Amaryllis catch up to her and Serena, wheezing as she attempts to catch her breath. She’s clutching something in her arms...looks like a staff of some sort? It’s almost as tall as she is!

Veronica narrows her eyes; Ryll has always been a bit of a prankster, and there’s a good chance this will end with something exploding. (Probably Ryll herself, if she’s being honest.) Serena, of course, is blissfully ignorant, simply grinning at their friend as though they don’t have places to be and things to  _ not explode _ .

(But still, she can’t bring herself to be mad at either of them. Serena is her sister, after all, and whatever stunts Ryll might pull...well, she has a soft spot. No need to call it  _ love _ or whatever overly-romantic nonsense Serena is spouting today.)

“I, uh…” She’s uncharacteristically nervous, which makes  _ no _ sense, as far as Veronica is concerned. Sure, she and Serena are skipping town for a while, and there’s no telling when they’ll be back ( _ if _ they’ll be back, a part of her reminds herself; this isn’t a vacation, and no one knows what’s waiting for them when they find their Luminary, but it likely won’t be a walk in the park), but none of that really calls for any of Ryll’s current theatrics. Unless it’s an apology for future explosions…

Her train of thought is  _ rudely _ interrupted by Ryll shoving the staff into her hands. “I...made this for you,” she mumbles,  _ finally  _ spitting out whatever was on her mind. “To, uh. Remember me by, when you and Rena are traveling and meeting other friends.” She fusses with the edge of her sleeve,  _ usually _ a clear sign that she’s sorry for a prank (well, sorry she got caught, anyway), but there’s no joking here.

Huh.  _ That’s  _ weird. Just like the glimmering in Serena’s eyes...

She waves her off, rolling her eyes as she examines the staff. “Goddess above, Ryll, I’d have to  _ try _ to forget about you.” It really is a nice staff, and as far as Veronica can tell there’s nothing rigged to explode. “And, uh...thank you.”

Ryll beams in response. “O-of course, Ronnie! And, um...stay safe.”

“Heh, do you  _ honestly _ believe I’d get hurt? I’m Arboria’s resident prodigy, after all! I’ll be fine,” she says, even if she doesn’t totally believe it herself. She may not know the  _ whole _ story behind Erdwin and Serenica’s adventure, but it absolutely  _ cannot _ be the easy journey Benedictus kept telling her about.

Ryll pulls her and Serena into a hug, to their surprise, wiping away tears when she finally releases them to go out into the world. 

They only make it to the nearest campsite before Serena muses, an uncharacteristically-mischievous grin painted on her face, “Well, for all your talk of being a prodigy, you certainly can’t tell when someone’s flirting with you!”

Wait, wait,  _ what _ . No, no, Ryll couldn’t have been...well, that would certainly have explained the nerves! Ugh, what an idiot she is. And to think now she has to wait until she goes back to Arboria to give Ryll (and herself) some closure…assuming Ryll would wait for her, of course.

(Months later, Veronica finds herself face-to-face with a living nightmare, and among her last thoughts is this: maybe it’s for the best that she never realized the point of Ryll’s gift, if she was meant to fall here all along.)

**4.**

Serena doesn’t really get it.

Everyone in Arboria nudges her (and Veronica) whenever the topic of Erdwin comes up, making some strange joke about how they’ll be fighting over the Luminary the moment they find him, and Mother and Father keep talking about when they’ll find their special someones. And she just... doesn’t get it.

“Honestly, when the Luminary comes along, you can have him,” Veronica grumbles one night, partway into their grand adventure across Erdrea. “Unless the replacement turns out to be a girl, of course.”

But, honestly, Serena couldn’t care less about the fairytale romance that her neighbors kept harping on about. She has her books for that.

Every so often, when they stop in a town for supplies or a night not spent around a campfire, she finds herself in the company of a man who  _ really _ wants to “get to know her” better, who won’t stop badgering her when she says she isn’t interested. They tell her that they can change her mind, as though she hadn’t felt this way for as long as she can remember.

No, she’s not interested in them. And she won’t _ever_ be interested in them. No, she’ll stick to her books.

For a long time, she’d assumed that maybe she was like Veronica, that her inevitable soulmate would turn out to be a nice girl. But when Veronica gushes to her about a beautiful girl they just passed, Serena feels...well, sure, the girls may be pretty, but she’s certain that whatever Veronica is feeling is nothing like what Serena herself feels.

And she feels the same when she first meets the Luminary (Eleven, she corrects, watching him bristle every time the title is used). And his blue-haired friend (more than friend?), which is probably for the best considering Veronica swore to disown her “if you even  _ think  _ of getting together with that nightmare.” And that’s fine, it’s ideal, to tell the truth, but after all the fuss Arboria made about her destiny...is she broken?

She sighs, pretending to read as she watches Eleven fuss over Erik after their daring escape from Gondolia. It’s cute, really, though as endearing as their little song-and-dance is, she wishes one of them would make a move already.

“Ah, aren’t they charming?” Sylv asks, dramatically falling to the floor of the ship and leaning back on their arms. “And what of you, Serena? Do you have someone waiting for you back home?”

She simply shakes her head. “Oh, no, Mx. Sylv. I’ve never really been one for romances.” She glances back down at her book, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sure that sounds silly, looking at the books I read, but—”

Sylv presses a finger to her lips, silencing her. “Darling, you don’t need to justify yourself! There’s nothing wrong with taking a little time to figure yourself out first.” 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not that...well, not  _ just _ that. It’s more that... “ She pauses, trying to figure out her next few words. “I don’t really, um, find myself interested in anyone at all.”

Sylv’s face changes, just a bit, as though the pieces finally fell into place in their mind. “Well,” they reply, “there’s nothing wrong with that, either.”

“Really? You don’t think it’s strange, especially with all of my love stories?”

They laugh. “Oh, of  _ course _ not, darling! I’ve seen plenty on my travels, and met quite a few people like you. You are  _ far _ from strange.”

She smiles. That’s certainly reassuring. “Thank you, Sylv.”

“Oh, I haven’t done much of anything,” they tell her as they push themself off the deck and back onto their feet. “Just passing along a bit of knowledge I could have used a lot sooner, a long time ago.”

(When they find their way back to Arboria, and the townsfolk begin their diatribes about reincarnated lovers once more, Serena rolls her eyes alongside her sister. The first step of many on a path to figuring out who she is on her own, she thinks.)

**5.**

Norberto takes his first step outside of his father’s—no, no, let’s try that again.

_ Sylvando _ (fully discarding a name tied to home in exchange for something  _ far _ more adventurous) finally exits the tyranny of knight training in the walls of Puerto Valor, a prison in all but name. Yes, that’s much better.

Puerto Valor lay in the dust of the circus caravan wheels, and the destination...well, only the driver knows that, and Sylvando doesn’t quite feel courageous enough to approach him. (It was hard enough approaching Papi— _ Rodrigo _ , and the ensuing fight and angry packing ebbed away any remaining energy.) But, of course, someone else does the legwork anyway.

“Oy, love.” The stranger taking the seat next to Sylvando has a kind-looking face and a surprising amount of makeup on, in contrast with their deep voice and less typically-feminine frame. Sylvando had never met anyone like them in knight training. “What ‘ave you got in mind for your act?”

Sylvando greets their question only with a surely-stunned looking silence, earning a laugh. “What, you never seen anyone like me?” They narrow their eyes. “Circus brings all kinds of people together. Some of ‘em ain’t what you city types would call ‘normal.’ Mind your tongue and you’ll get along with ‘em fine.”

“Oh, no no  _ no _ , uh, darling” Sylvando replies, hands frantically waving in an attempt to convince the stranger that he—she—uh...that Sylv means no harm, “I don’t mean to imply anything rude, no, never! I’m merely...curious.”

The stranger nods. “Right, right. I was in your shoes, a long time ago. Just left ‘ome, still stuck all in my ideas of what a man or a woman should be, y’know?” And boy does Sylvando know, having thrown himself—herself? No, that doesn’t feel right either—into knight service in pursuit of some idealized concept of manhood until he—they?— simply couldn’t handle bottling up so much of themself any more. “But the more I traveled around, the more I got used to livin’ outside of pryin’ noses, the more I thought, well, what  _ are _ any of those? Well, they’re not for me, anyway.”

Sylv can relate, a lot more than they care to admit. “Me too,” they mumble, feeling a surge of both relief and  _ intense _ nervousness as soon as the words find their way into the air.

The stranger laughs, clapping a hand on Sylv’s back. “Well, you’re in good company then! Looks like you’ll be learnin’ a lot more than mere circus tricks with us!”

Sylv gazes out of the caravan, out on the world sprawling for miles and miles in front of them, and they couldn’t be happier.

(They worry for a bit once they join up with Team Luminary, but no one treats them like an oddity, and when Jade immediately corrects herself and Eleven’s resulting grin nearly blinds them all, Sylv understands  _ why  _ a whole lot more.)

**6.**

The mere idea of marrying a prince— _ any _ prince, even a hypothetical one—had always made Jade feel sick. Those around her laughed it off, saying it was the usual rebellion of young princesses, that she’d grow out of it one day.

Lady Eleanor never laughed. She pulled Jade aside, once, telling her she never had to settle for anyone, that when she was queen she could wed whatever man—or woman, she’d added, with a wink and a sly glance at Jade’s late mother’s portrait, or anyone—she wanted. 

Truth be told, the realization that men aren’t for her was never a surprise to Jade. She’d known for a stunningly long time.

From the little girls she’d run into just after she and Rab fled the ruins of Dundrasil, who made her heart flutter when they grabbed her hand, to the dancers she couldn’t take her eyes off of when she grew older, to the way too-enthusiastic boys made her feel that same level of nausea as the idea of  _ marrying _ one...no, she certainly wasn’t one for men.

A shame she’s never been able to stick around long enough to court one of the kind and beautiful ladies she met in the streets of Erdrea. No, for now, she’s “married,” as it were, to the job of finding and helping the Luminary, whoever they may be now. (She’d failed before, and goddess above she’s not failing again.) But that’s another reason to keep fighting, right?

Every day, every place she travels, serves as a sort of a reminder of the life she could have had; a calm life, where she never had to throw a punch or a kick, or even lift a finger. Where she could have settled down with a lovely girl and prepared to rule Heliodor...but that, of course would be a life of ignorance, a life spent turning a blind eye to the struggles of her people, of people  _ everywhere _ . And that is far from a good life, in her opinion.

No, she’s content. She can wait months—years, if she must—to settle down.

(She stays up late one night, looking at the faces of her new companions, at her brother—her  _ brother _ , which had been a bit of a surprise, but she’d much prefer this happy and proud Eleven over any alternative—at Rab, who’s always kept her safe, and she thinks to herself,  _ yes, this is the life I choose, and the life I would  _ always _ choose. _ )

**7.**

“Goddess, this is  _ hilarious _ .” Veronica cackles, covering her face behind her hands in an ill-fated attempt to cover up her actual delight. (Rab didn’t get his Wise Old King reputation for no reason, after all.) “Imagine, the Luminary and his companions, and not one of us is straight. Well, except for Gramps,” she adds.

That addendum puts a wee knot in his stomach, but he can’t quite place why. So much for the Wise King thing, then.

Eleven raises his glass in a sort of mock-toast, the rest of the party following suit, but Rab just watches, not really looking anyone in the eye. He’s fine sticking to his thoughts for now, even if they’re taking an unexpected trip down memory lane—

A hand waves in front of his face, jolting him back to reality. “ _ Uh, Rab, you okay?”  _ Eleven asks (doesn’t call him Grandad, never has, and really, Rab can’t ask that of him while he’s still mourning his family in Cobblestone), a concerned frown planted on his face.

“Aye, laddie, fit as a fiddle!” Rab replies, trying to hide any dramatic pondering. But, of course, he didn’t account for Jade, who’s been able to read him for years. She narrows her eyes, as though she’s preparing something to say, but she shakes it off. Perhaps she wants to give him some semblance of privacy…

“Probably not used to being outnumbered,” Veronica mumbles. Alas, it seems the rest of the group doesn’t agree. “That’s how it always goes…”

“No, no,” Jade muses, “that doesn’t sound right at all. Lady Eleanor certainly never acted like that, and I’ve  _ never  _ seen Rab made uncomfortable in situations like this. I would know, after all.”

Rab elects not to mention the numerous clubs they accidentally (or at least that’s how he chooses to remember it, anyway) wandered into on their travels, meant to, ah,  _ entertain _ the non-straight townsfolk. No need to push his own embarrassment onto poor Jade; the others can make their own assumptions.

He tunes out the chatter of the rest of their merry band and thinks back to those visits, visits with only the intent of earning a bit more gold to keep them going, and gets tangled up in those memories once more. The times his eyes wandered a bit too close to the stage before he realized just what kind of place he was in, the times he  _ kept looking _ ...times even before that, when Dundrasil was still standing, when his feet carried him to similar locations, to friendships that went, perhaps, a bit beyond the scope of typical or “acceptable” male friendship.

He’d pushed it aside at the time, too focused on learning to rule, and then too focused on raising Eleanor, on teaching  _ her _ to rule, and by the time he had any time to himself, he’d pushed it so far down he forgot to think about it entirely. (And then Dundrasil fell, and he had to raise Jade  _ and  _ search for answers on the fiend who ordered its destruction…) And now, well. Perhaps it’s a bit too late for him to do  _ that  _ kind of soul-searching.

“ _ You know,”  _ Eleven says, looking Rab square in the eye, “ _ Grandad Chalky told me a story once. About someone who hired him, back in his adventuring days.”  _ The group hushes as they focus on whatever sage words the illustrious Chalky had passed on to their beloved Luminary. “ _ The guy had never taken a wife, had never really looked for one. When Grandad asked, he said he was looking for ‘the right girl,’ or something.” _

“How romantic,” Serena murmurs, clearly hooked into this story. Veronica rolls her eyes, but she’s clearly  _ just _ as into it as her sister is. She may think herself clever, but they’ve all worked out her weak spots.

“ _ You’d think, right? But Grandad said he seemed...a bit lost, I guess. Like something was missing.” _

Rab gulps; why has Eleven been looking at him for the entire story so far? Is he really that easy to read?

“ _ Anyway, to shorten a long story, Grandad went back like a year later and the guy had a chat with him. Turned out he felt it was ‘too late’ for him to realize he was gay or something, so Grandad had to talk him out of that whole mindset. The guy wound up with a boyfriend not long after.” _

Ah. Perhaps Rab  _ is _ that easy to read. Like his darling—er, articles. Goddess above, he hopes no one else noticed.

Jade lets out a sympathetic noise. “Goddess, I don’t envy him. I’m lucky I figured it out earlier, honestly.” The twins and Erik nod in agreement.

“I cannot say  _ exactly _ how the poor darling felt,” Sylv adds, in their usual ostentatious manner, “but I can relate. I certainly didn’t realize I wasn’t a man before I left Pu—er, before I ventured to the farthest reaches of Erdrea!”

Eleven nods, either not picking up on Sylv’s slip or choosing to let them have their privacy. “ _ Mum was great about the, well, everything, so I guess I was lucky too. But there’s no real end date to figuring it out, right? _ ” He flashes an innocent-looking smile at Rab, who knows better than to take it at face value. His grandson is no Darkspawn, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he certainly knows how to use his Yggdrasil-given charms for his own purposes.

The rest of their dinner goes as normal, but Rab isn’t quite...well, normal, still lost in his thoughts, and as he wanders down the hallway to his room, not entirely paying attention, he collides with Eleven.

“ _ Whoa, Rab, you okay?”  _ Eleven asks, pulling Rab back onto his feet. “ _ Between dinner and this..well, uh, I’m worried about you.” _

Oh, this is not good. “Laddie, ye dinnae need to worry about me.”

Eleven clearly doesn’t believe a word he’s saying. “ _ Look, I…” _ He sighs. “ _ I’m sorry if I was hinting too hard, or if I was making a wrong assumption, or…”  _ He trails off, seemingly unable to articulate any further. “ _ You know what I mean. I think.” _

“Laddie, ye’ve got nothing ye need to apologize for. There’s just a lot knocking around in this wee head ‘a mine.” Aye, it would be painfully easy to leave it at that, to call it a night and push the whole thing aside like he had for years. And yet the thought of that leaves him surprisingly uneasy. “Though, to tell ye the truth, laddie, you didnae have it wrong.”

It’s not much of an admission, of course, but it’s a start.

Eleven grins. “ _ Heh. I’ve seen that look before. Used to see it in the mirror. _ ” He pats Rab on the shoulder. “ _ I’m heading to bed. You should probably do the same; I dunno how much traveling we’re doing tomorrow.” _

Rab nods, venturing off to his own room, his heart feeling much lighter.

(When he finally tells the rest of their merry band, Jade has the misfortune of putting more than a few pieces together regarding those ill-fated club visits and where exactly his eyes had landed, and when he sees his life flash before his eyes, he finds a lot more sense there than he’d found before.)

**8.**

There was a boy, a long time ago, working in Rodrigo’s villa, and Hendrik did not know why looking at him made him feel sick. The signs were there: the sudden rush of warmth to his face and his hands, the shaking, the knots in his stomach...but why did this servant boy’s mere presence make him ill?

He had told Norb—no, Sylvando is their name, even in memories—and they had nearly ejected their dinner from laughter. “ _ Henny,” _ they had said, “you’re in love!” The starry-eyed expression they wore as they said this had, frankly, concerned him.

Could that truly be love? He knew little of love, only the vaguest memories of it from his parents and a glimpse of it in the way Rodrigo spoke of his departed wife. None of them had ever shown the same symptoms that now plagued Hendrik.

And yet...perhaps there was an element of truth to what Sylvando had said, as whenever the boy spoke to him, he felt a sort of flutter in his heart.

Now, of course, he recognizes that as a mere childhood fancy, not  _ love _ as Sylvando had told him. Love—not the romantic sort, but a more generic love—is reserved for his country, his king, his princess (when she finally comes to her senses and leaves the Darkspawn’s service). He has no use for it while Heliodor is in danger.

He forces himself to pay no mind to Jasper, to a familiar surge of feelings amplified by real conversations, by time, by adulthood. But, of course, such denial is not meant to last.

He dare not act on it—Jasper is far too busy with the hunt for the Darkspawn, as is Hendrik himself. And that, in and of itself, is assuming that Jasper returns his affections, or desires any part in that whatsoever.

And so, he says nothing. He simply languishes in silence. And whatever Jasper feels seems to do the same, never spoken, just left to fester.

The attempt on Hendrik’s life in the Hekswood speaks far more about Jasper’s view of their relationship than the man himself ever had.

(The Darkspawn—Luminary— _ Eleven _ , on their way back from the ruined castle, tells him that he deserved far better anyway. Hendrik is not sure he agrees, given the way the world is falling apart around them and Hendrik’s own hand in the matter, but that thought, too, is left to wither away.)

**9.**

The gender stuff had come fairly easy, though Gemma supposes that comes from not being the only trans kid in the village. (She has no idea how long it would have taken her without someone else to show her that’s even an  _ option _ .) She had figured it out, forced everyone in Cobblestone to treat her as the woman she is—not that that was much of a struggle—and washed her hands of the whole questioning thing.

Of course, that was before she and the entire village were thrown into the dungeons of Heliodor Castle, and before she got to see people outside of Cobblestone. And the very pretty knight girl keeping watch over them.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” the girl (Beryl, who  _ insists _ her prisoners call her by name) mumbles, trying to stay out of earshot of any of the other guards, “but if they catch wind of anything funny, it’s not just my head at risk, y’know? And I couldn’t live with that.” She sighs, the puff of air fluttering her pretty red hair. “I know you lot aren’t bad people, but Carnelian—sorry,  _ King  _ Carnelian thinks it’s best to keep you here until he knows for sure.”

Gemma knows this; she also knows that they’re only here as a trick, to convince Eleven that they’re dead so the knights can catch him. But there’s nothing she can do, is there? Nothing but wait, and maybe admire Beryl, with her pretty green eyes and the well-tailored knight’s uniform and the sword she swings around with ease. 

Yeah, she’d like to be Beryl. Or she thinks so, anyway. It feels almost like a crush, but that’s silly, right?

Days—weeks? Months?—pass, and in turn, Gemma passes a  _ lot _ of time with Beryl, playing a card game or just talking. Beryl tells her of her own family, and Gemma talks about Eleven, who wasn’t family but was damn close.

“To think Carnelian’s claiming the poor kid is evil,” Beryl tells her one day, after scanning the room for anyone who’d dare report her. (Though Gemma’s sure Beryl would kick their ass.) “He seems like an ordinary person from what you’ve told me...well, other than the lightning, I guess. Though if he’s friends with someone like you, he must be pretty cool.” She flashes a grin at her, and Gemma feels a swell of  _ something  _ in her heart.

Oh no, this might be more than just wanting to be like her. This might actually be a crush.

Count on Gemma to have a crush on her jailer, huh? Even if Beryl doesn’t seem to be doing this willingly…

Her thoughts are interrupted by another guard hastily unlocking the cell doors, pulling Beryl to her feet and towards their one window into the outside world. Gemma can just catch a glimpse of her newly-realized crush’s hands flying in front of her mouth, a murmured  _ fuck _ barely registering on her ears. She quickly finds herself yanked onto her own two legs, shoved at the window.

She eyes the outside with wary eyes; the sky is tinted a strange shade of purple, Erdwin’s Lantern shining down with an eerie glow, Yggdrasil nowhere to be found in the gloomy sky...had Eleven done this? (No, he would never.)

“The king was an imposter,” the guard mumbles, and Beryl chokes back a laugh even as her hands shake. “It’s not safe here any more, get yourself out.” He casts a glance at the Cobblestonians. “And, uh, our unfortunate guests.”

And thus begins their exit from the dungeons, as the world crumbles around them. And Gemma  _ should  _ be scared, really, but Beryl grabs her hand, and suddenly the flutter of her heart is way more distracting than anything the apocalypse could offer.

(Eleven laughs at her when she tells him about her crush discovery, full-blown hysterics, and she can’t bring herself to be offended, because he’s alive and  _ she’s  _ alive and that’s far more important than her dwindling pride. Plus, he approves of Beryl, and that makes up for it anyway.)

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: thechavanator (main) / eleven-of-light (dq spoiler blog) / chellion-characters (OC content)  
> twitter: nonotfromportal (a mishmash of whatever, honestly.)  
> discord: Chel!#2061
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!!!


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